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TRP: Hansel and Mishka (Magic Husbands)
' ' '''Izzy: '''at 9:18 PM An inn in Sienna Springs, Day 220, the evening after the Queen fight. Hansel had vague dreams. Nightmares about storms and thunder weren't uncommon, but these were more shapeless. Blistering heat and charred air, the smell of burning metal. A full-body ache. At times he thought he was awake, in that cave, and Jonn was clinging to him or Luci was praying softly. At times he thought he was in a bed and Goro was pressed against his side, holding his hand, or Mishka was watching over him. It was a slurry -- he was back in the cave then, sweltering, aware of the cool firm presence of Roddy nearby, and then back in an unfamiliar bed where he could hear Raef's quiet voice somewhere. He didn't remember anything. Nothing solid. The hydra, and ... nothing. Maybe it would come back. Maybe he'd rather it didn't. Hansel didn't know if he was awake, but even if it was a nightmare and it would twist in a moment and go sour and terrifying, he reached for his husband as soon as he had the strength to -- or he tried, and his hands twitched a bit and pain thrummed up the lightning scars marking his arms now. He wasn't made for this. It was going to burn through him. It was going to kill him, and he was going to kill them. He tried to say Mishka's name and managed a mumble. '''Coyote: '''at 9:35 PM Mishka stirred. He sat on the floor, slumped against the bed, dozing, his hair still mussed and singed from the fight. His face was still streaked with dirt, soot, sweat, and blood. Someone was murmuring his name. Hansel. Mishka jolted awake like he'd been struck by lightning. He crawled onto the bed, cradling Hansel's face. He felt for Hansel's pulse; it was slow and weak. Hansel's eyes flickered open. "Hansel," Mishka said. This was normally where Mishka would make some idiotic joke, or flirt with Hansel, or-- some other bullshit. Today he couldn't quite manage it. He rubbed Hansel's arms where the new scars were. "Hansel," he whispered again. "Can you hear me, my soul?" '''Izzy: '''at 9:54 PM God, it fucking hurt, being touched -- Hansel didn't even have the energy to flinch at it reflexively. Maybe that was why he'd kept having those aching nightmares. They'd all been touching him while he slept, Goro under his arm and Jonn slouched by the bed holding his hand, not realizing they were hurting him. And god, he didn't want them to stop. He winced and mumbled incoherently for a second, trying to get out thoughts that were too complicated like please don't leave and everything aches but don't stop doing it and fuck, help me, what's going to happen next time? "Got you," he croaked, making himself open his eyes -- really open them -- to see Mishka in the dim light. "Got you." Had Mishka saved him? He looked charred and smudged. Had Hansel done that, or the hydra? He couldn't remember. Couldn't remember. '''Coyote: '''at 10:02 PM Hansel said got you but didn't move to actually... get Mishka. He must've been fucked up. Too exhausted to move, likely. Last time, Hansel had been unable to eat, and he'd been weak, and in pain. He reminded Mishka of a lightning-struck tree: hollow and burned out on the inside, like any stray breeze might knock it over. "Serena knocked you out," Mishka whispered. '''Izzy: '''at 10:06 PM That didn't ... sound right. Didn't make sense. He thought he heard Serena but it must be some other name, something that sounded similar -- he was too depleted to work out what name or word it could be, though. He must just be delirious. "Serena?" '''Coyote: '''at 10:14 PM Mishka grimaced. He hesitated. This probably wasn't the time to shock Hansel; he wasn't sure how Hansel would take this news. But he couldn't lie to Hansel, his ish. "Serena," Mishka whispered. He rubbed his face. "She-- she came down in this... she was like a ghost. Ethereal. In a wave of light. And she pointed to you, and then you-- fell. That's all I remember." It happened mid-fight. Mishka kept going over the moment in his head, obsessing over it, trying to figure out if he'd missed something. '''Izzy: '''at 10:22 PM Hansel mumbled incoherently a bit more. He managed to lift his hand this time and touch Mishka's shoulder. Still didn't make any sense. Wait -- no, it kind of fucking did. "Get mine," he muttered. "Said ... Serena said ... I'd get what was fuckin' ... coming to me. Fuckin' ... smiting me an' shit. Fuckin' Serena." He missed her so fucking much. He wished she hadn't hated him. He wished he hadn't fucking killed her. Tears pricked at his eyes and that fucking hurt too, like saltwater on a sunburn. '''Coyote: '''at 10:31 PM Mishka opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked away, twisting uncomfortably. "My love," he said. "I don't think... I don't think she was smiting you." He kissed Hansel's forehead. "I think she was-- helping us." '''Izzy: '''at 10:37 PM He made a quiet disbelieving sound in the back of his throat and closed his eyes. Mishka hadn't been there when Serena had fucking cursed and spat at him with her dying breaths. (She had petted his hair awkwardly and whispered, Don't be afraid.) "Monster," he mumbled. "Hated me." '''Coyote: '''at 10:42 PM "Well, to be fair, you murdered her." Mishka lay on top of the covers with Hansel. He wanted to lie on top of Hansel like he usually did, but he worried his weight would be a burden. "Maybe she knows now that it wasn't your fault," he said quietly. "I mean-- her goddess showed her visions, didn't she? She saw things. Maybe she's watching." '''Izzy: '''at 11:27 PM Hansel made the same sound again, more defeated this time. He thought about Kheman saying he was glad they'd survived, and the mixture of guilt and hope was too fucking much for him to process right now. It felt fucking obscene to hope that Serena was ... looking after him from some afterlife, or was even apathetic towards him. He was supposed to be suffering for what he'd done to them. In fairness, he sure fucking was. He pawed at Mishka clumsily, trying to make Mishka come closer even as he hissed through his teeth at the feeling of it, and remembered the vague sense of his crew taking care of him. "Everyone ... okay?" If they -- if they weren't -- he wondered if Mishka would lie to him, just for now, and if he'd prefer it. "Can't remember." '''Coyote: '''at 11:46 PM Mishka moved closer automatically, as if Hansel had spoken a command. He crawled under the covers obediently, lacing his fingers through Hansel's hair and cradling his head, letting Hansel bury his face in his chest. "Everyone's alright," Mishka murmured. "No one died. Goro is well-- he's exhausted, poor kitten-- but he's alive. Roddy, too. And the rest." He kissed Hansel's forehead again. He fumbled for a flask in his pocket. He unscrewed it. "I brought a painkiller," he said. "Hashish extract. Will you take it, my love? To relax." '''Izzy: '''at 12:22 AM He grunted non-committally. It occurred to him to ask if the fucking hydra was dead, or what, but god, he didn't give a shit. He was going to pass out again, soon, anyway, and he might forget this conversation had even happened. "Try some water, maybe." Might've been the heat of the volcano, but he realized he was fucking dying of thirst. Hadn't been like that last time. Maybe he'd actually be able to keep it down. '''Coyote: '''at 7:39 AM Mishka fumbled for a flask of water instead. Maybe Hansel could have some water, and then— (Maybe if he bought some hashish weed, they could smoke it. Hansel couldn’t throw up smoke, right? And it might make him feel better. Help him relax, help him sleep better.) God, Mishka just couldn’t— fucking stand to see him like this. Weak and in pain. The possession was getting worse. A few more times and it’d kill him. He held the flask to Hansel’s mouth and stroked his throat, encouraging him to drink and swallow. '''Izzy: '''at 9:53 AM To Hansel's chagrin, no water came out of the flask. "Empty," he grumbled. If he weren't so miserable he'd think Mishka was messing with him, but Mishka wouldn't do that with him like this. '''Coyote: '''at 9:59 AM Mishka frowned in surprise. He could’ve sworn—? Weird. He hesitated, torn. He needed to go get water from outside the room, but he fucking hated to leave. (What if somebody hurt his husband, what if somebody came in through the window or crept in invisibly, what if someone hurt his husband while Hansel was too weak to defend himself, what if the Sanguine Queen wasn’t dead, what if someone turned on them—) Mishka kissed Hansel a few dozen times, then went to leave. “I’ll be back, my love.” He left the empty flask and went to get another full one. '''Izzy: '''at 10:15 AM Hansel made an unhappy sound. He didn't even fucking want the water that much. He wanted Mishka to stay with him more, he just didn't want to spend fucking days trying to eat and drink and take care of himself, this time, he felt fucking worse but he wanted to try harder -- His hand dropped down to the covers, a bit defeated by Mishka leaving, and hit a spreading puddle of water. If he hadn't been exhausted he would've jerked away in surprise -- as it was, he just patted at the water in befuddlement, and shifted to look at it. Mishka'd left the empty flask on the bed, but it'd spilled out, now. It wasn't empty. He was sure it had been, though -- nothing'd come out of it. The fuck. What the fuck. He stared at the puddle, feeling like even if he were at his best this wouldn't make any fucking sense. '''Coyote: '''at 10:20 AM Mishka returned in only a moment, carrying another full flask, as well as some kale and rice in case Hansel was hungry. Hansel looked real fucking lost, for some reason. He was staring at a puddle of water on the bed. Next to the flask. The supposedly empty flask. Hansel stared at the puddle. Mishka stared at the puddle. Then, delicately, Mishka picked up the flask and stuck his finger inside, and felt cold, smooth, melting ice. Mishka looked at the flask, then Hansel, then the flask. “... Hans,” Mishka said. “Did you...?” '''Izzy: '''at 10:29 AM Hansel shifted his confused look to Mishka. He hadn't done anything. What could he've done? It vaguely occurred to him to apologize anyway, out of habit. "Iuno," he mumbled, and gestured to the puddle weakly, and it fucking abruptly sloshed off the bed and onto the floor, not leaving behind even a trace of dampness. "Uh. Uh?" '''Coyote: '''at 10:33 AM A slow smile spread across Mishka’s face until he was smiling so hard it hurt. He grabbed a stray blanket to mop up the water, then decided he actually didn’t give a fuck and tossed it aside. With a whoop, he sat down and threw his arms around Hansel’s neck instead. “Hansel,” Mishka said. “Hansel. Are you— are you magic?” '''Izzy: '''at 10:36 AM "No?" Hansel mumbled. "Nah. No." He reached up to pat Mishka's waist. 'Course he wasn't magic. Never had been. This was just, uh ... fuck. "Wha?" '''Coyote: '''at 10:39 AM “You— splashed the water off the— look, there’s not even—“ Mishka gestured rapidly between the bed and the floor, too excited to speak. He grabbed the flask and shoved it at Hansel. “You made it ice! It’s ice, see! You can’t drink ice! That’s why!” '''Izzy: '''at 11:00 AM Hansel stared between him and the flask, baffled. Mishka knew more about magic than he did, but -- they were both tired, was all. He shifted his hand up to pat Mishka's cheek. He was all excited, and it was cute, but nah. "Nah. Nah, khochav. S'fuckin' ... somethin' else. Dunno." '''Coyote: '''at 11:08 AM “No! No, I saw you— the water— it’s not even wet— oh my god,” Mishka said. “Oh my god. You’re magic and you don’t even know. Oh my god. Who gave you magic. Why. How. Oh my god. Look, look.” He scampered off the bed again. “Make that— make that motion with your hand, the one you did before. At the water. Like you’re brushing it off.” '''Izzy: '''at 11:13 AM Hansel waved his hand vaguely to indulge Mishka. The water on the floor rippled. "Psh," he said, frowning. "Pssshh." '''Coyote: '''at 11:14 AM “Ha! Ha ha! See! Do you see!” '''Izzy: '''at 11:20 AM He scoffed. "Fuckin' ... coincidence, uh ..." He tried it again, though, kind of -- more purposefully -- and the water formed a little wave and folded over on itself. Goddamn. Shit. The fuck? "Fuck, Mishka. Fuck, I fuckin' got magic." He stared at his husband with utter confusion. '''Coyote: '''at 11:25 AM Mishka grinned stupidly at Hansel for a few seconds. Then he glanced down and saw the full flask of water in his hand. “Oh,” he said. “Oh. Water! I brought you water.” He scrambled back onto the bed and held the flask to Hansel’s mouth. '''Izzy: '''at 11:34 AM "Mff." Hansel accepted it, trying to ... not fucking turn it to ice again, he guessed? He didn't know how to do that, or not do it, or whatever, but he managed somehow, and swallowed a bit. His throat was so dry that it burned going down, and what was in the flask froze up again. "Shit," he muttered. "How ... how does magic ... fucking work." '''Coyote: '''at 11:43 AM “I have no clue,” Mishka admitted. “I set a lot of things on fire when I was a kid. On accident, I mean, because I couldn’t control my magic. I mean, on purpose, sometimes, too, because fire is neat and all, but also— oh, god, Hans, you have magic.” Then he sat up in alarm. “Oh god. What if— what if you can’t drink any water because you keep freezing it, and you dehydrate and die— wait, no, it’s okay, Goro will be able to do something.” He wasn’t sure what, but Goro was clever like that. He’d find a solution to get Hansel to drink water. Then Mishka sat bolt up upright again, excited. He had fire magic. He put a hand on the flask and heated it up again so Hansel could drink. “Ha!” he said. '''Izzy: '''at 12:18 PM Hansel gave him a helplessly affectionate, amused look. God, he was so tired, but if he passed back out he wouldn't be able to see and hear Mishka anymore. And he might miss Goro coming back. Or someone else coming to see him. Fuckers wouldn't wake him up so he could see with his own eyes that they were all okay, he knew. Maybe he'd have good dreams this time, though. He felt a little better than he had just because Mishka's excitement was fucking contagious, even if he was fucking confused and leery, himself. "So smart, ishi," he mumbled fondly, and managed to get another swallow down, then fumbled to push it away and curl his arm around Mishka. The contact still fucking hurt, but it didn't matter. "'M gonna ... sleep now." '''Coyote: '''at 12:20 PM “Oh. Oh, right. Sleep. Yeah.” Mishka fumbled a little. “Ah— do you— want me to stay and sleep with you, or— should I go tell the others and take care of things?” God, Goro was going to be so fucking excited. Roddy, too. '''Izzy: '''at 12:23 PM He pulled Mishka closer. "No. Don't go." '''Coyote: '''at 12:41 PM “Alright, neshama. Alright.” Mishka crawled pulled off his boots and shucked off his tunic, leaving himself in just his usual soft undershirt and leggings. He crawled into bed with Hansel, tucking himself deep into the covers so that only his nose was visible from the outside. He curled up against Hansel’s arm. '''Izzy: '''at 1:08 PM Hansel made a pleased sound. He shifted a bit, getting more comfortable, settling Mishka against his side -- not curling up around him, though, because he figured Goro would be back, and occupy the other side. That'd be nice. He bet Goro would have some interesting thoughts about this whole fuckin' magic thing. And Serena, or whatever. He was a cleric too, and all. He couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. He took a long, deep breath -- ash and ocean air -- and drifted off. END Title: Magic Husband. Summary: Hansel wakes up after his Gruumsh possession in Sienna Springs. He has magic now. Mishka is Excited. Category:Text Roleplay